


Vinyl

by Mels_sunshine



Category: Sing Street (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mels_sunshine/pseuds/Mels_sunshine
Summary: Short little story. Not much plot really but Conor goes into a record shop and sees Eamon for the first time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A short something I wrote whilst procrastinating my main fic. Chapter 3 of my main one will be ready soon. I promise. Maybe.

The tinny shop bell jangles as Conor steps in from the pouring rain. Water trickles off his hair and a heavy raindrop hangs on the end of his nose before detaching itself and falling free. Water streams off his hair and he unbuttons his coat, getting hotter by the second. The steady clicking of records catches the attention of Conor's ears. Vinyl on vinyl. He looks up and sees the boy, gently flicking through records with his thumb. A dark pewter ring sits just under the knuckle of his long, thin, guitar players fingers. His nails are bitten and rough around the edges and he pauses every few seconds to look at a record, maybe pulling it out of its sleeve before putting it back and flicking through them again. His thick black hair is flipped over to one side and curls softly around his face. He looks up and catches Conor's eye, a light smirk playing on his lips and Conor looks down hurriedly, ashamed at himself for staring.

Conor distracts himself by mindlessly clicking through records until there are no more to flip through. Conor hears a small chuckle and tilts his head upwards to see the mystery boy standing there, looking at him in utter disbelief. The boy points to the record in his hands and ambles slowly over to put the track onto the record player. Happy, upbeat music echoes through the shop but as Conor listens more closely to the lyrics, the somber longing voice of unrequited love swirls around his head. Happy/sad. The daydream stops and his eyes focus back in on the world. The boy is dancing around in front of him, his head bobbing in time to the music. Long, gangly arms splay out to the side and he manages to trip over himself. Conor lets out a short snigger, before covering his mouth with his hand, trying hard to suppress it. The boy is lying on the hard wooden floor and looks up at Conor with sad eyes. Conor's heart stops and he glances down at the boy on the floor. Panic sets in and Conor opens his mouth to say sorry. In one sudden movement the boy jumps up and ruffles his hands through his hair, looking at Conor mischievously. Conor scowls at him but can't stop himself from laughing.

The boy is flipping through the vinyls again, searching for another record. He gives a satisfied sigh when he finds it, places the needle of the record player down and the song crackles into life. An egotistical, self absorbed sound runs through the little shop and bounces off the walls. His hands come up to cover his face as he imitates a pained expression. As the music reaches its climax he rolls over and spreads out on his back over the record stand. His leg kicks high into the air and he flings his hand over his brow. The music drowns out and as the song finishes he takes a small curtsy. Conor smiles and claps before the burly, tattooed shop owner motions dancer boy out of the shop. He holds his hands up in mock surrender and saunters over to the door. His hand hovers above the handle and he turns on his heel. He stares at Conor, deep into his eyes and gives him a cheeky wink before throwing the door open and marching out into the downpour. Conor gapes after him and shakes his head in shock. Slowly, Conor turns back to the records and begins to browse through them again.

Thoughts swirl around his head and he wonders what would have happened if he had said something. A beautiful romance like the ones in films. Or at least a good friend. But sense and reasoning bring him back to the real world and remind him that he would never have said anything anyway.


End file.
